


Destination : Uncertain

by Dominam_Mortis



Series: Destination: [1]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Dembe, BAMF Ressler, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hunted, Hurt Reddington, Hurt Ressler, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Keenler - Freeform, On the Run, Ressler goes to Texas, Ressler suffers like a pro, The Cabal are annoying, Violence, wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominam_Mortis/pseuds/Dominam_Mortis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ressler's uncertain what he wants.<br/>He decides to strike out alone, go follow his own leads, why drag the rest of the task force into this, it's probably a dead end right?</p><p> </p><p>Not so right!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destination : Uncertain

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for:  
> \- This being un-beta'd  
> \- This being written just after 3x03  
> \- Me being English so having no idea of anything in America so it's taken lots of research  
> \- My very bad writing skills  
> \- Everything. This is my first Blacklist fic so it's gonna be bad as I'm still figuring out how I write Ressler, and everyone else!

The weather was overcast, thick, ugly grey clouds blocked out the sunlight and blue sky. It didn't make the mood any better. 

As Agent Ressler tiredly trudged back into the Post Office, barely flashing his badge to enter since he'd only been gone 5 hours and the guard hadn't changed. His head was low, trying to ward off the cramp in his shoulders, the stress and fatigue getting to him. He was temporarily relieved as he took the lift down to the war room. As it halted with a groan he had to stifle his own as he stepped out into the seemingly empty room. Making a bee-line for his office he passed Aram, greeting him in their new arrangement, as they both now got here before everyone else - well, except Cooper. Entering his office he disregarded the empty desk, sub-consciously acknowledging the irony that the person he was about to continue hunting used to occupy it.

As he dropped into his well worn chair he glanced out the window back at Aram and Agent Navabi as she joined them too. The corner of his mouth raised in a hint of a smile, he knew they all had the same goal and were also all losing sleep over it, maybe some more than others.

Turning on his computer and monitor he grimaced as the time appeared in the corner of the screen - 6:33 am, it wasn't spectacularly early but he had been in till 1:30 so he wasn't feeling achieved. The days had been passed by quickly this week, becoming a uneventful, timeless cycle.It consisted of: getting in early, checking on reports and possible leads, maybe checking some out, reading files and signing out late. He felt like a robot, sleep deprived and running on fumes, after a week they still had nothing. He shook his head, the files he'd seen, read repeatedly, were engraved on his brain but there was still no sign off them, they'd completely disappeared.

_Reddington's good, I'll give him that._

He'd never thought he'd ever say that, but it was true.

As he sat at his desk, mind again sifting through the recent events, hands shuffling through photos and pieces of paper with information, he sighed. There was nothing new here, it was a dead end, after nearly catching them Iowa the trail had gone cold. He had guessed this sudden complete disappearance was because Reddington and Keen had realized that he wasn't going to back down and they needed to be more cautious. 

After staring at his computer screen for what felt like hours he decided to check the news, seeing as it could perhaps give him something. Clicking onto the CNN website he saw very little apart from some reckless bank robbery in Houston, Texas. Seeing as he was bored he clicked the article, as he read through it he saw the names mentioned of the suspects that had been caught on CCTV. One of them rung a bell in his brain and he frowned ( though that wasn't unusual recently, he was getting serious frown-lines ). As he ran a check on the FBI database he finally found the file and was amused to see that the man had been mentioned briefly on the Fulcrum. As he dug further he was disheartened to find nothing else on him, clearly he wasn't important. Ressler got the feeling that being outed had left the man desperate, causing him to rob a bank of all places.

Sitting back he sighed, just another one of the Cabal's minions causing chaos. 

Suddenly he had a eureka moment. Standing up he grabbed his whiteboard pen from his pen pot on his desk and went up to his new whiteboard ( yes he now had a whiteboard, it was behind Liz's old desk, she use to be his idea board so seeing as she was gone he had replaced her with something old fashioned ). He rubbed off his old scribbles and wrote "Houston, Texas: Lead #1". He had realized that seeing as Reddington was planning on stopping the Cabal, he should too, well only to catch Reddington and Keen. If he followed all the Cabal related cases, he might cross paths with them again, like in Iowa.  
He wrote all the facts down, the name of the main suspect Adam Massey, what had been cataloged as stolen and other details that could be relevant. 

For hours he stared at the whiteboard, then at the files, then back to the whiteboard, adding new information and slowly linking it. Deciding that this was interesting enough to pursue he booked a flight to Houston, though he didn't see it as a matter he had to tell Cooper, the man was going through enough to be concerned with a wild goose chase. He mentioned it briefly to Agents Mojtabai and Navabi as he left, noticing their weary looks, he knew they understood his urgency to leave the office, though he felt bad they couldn't come.  
As he quickly popped into his apartment, grabbing his 3 day go bag he had ready for something like this, he soon headed to the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport , spending as little time as possible there before boarding his plane he was relieved to have a quiet flight, hopefully get in a power nap, seeing as it was 12:09 am and he'd be there in around 3 hours and 31 minutes, he might as well try.

He woke with a start, having had a bad dream, though he'd forgotten it already. Blinking heavily he frowned at his watch, seeing it was nearly 14:58 pm, he'd nearly gotten 3 hours sleep, that would certainly help him later. He decided to come up with an action plan for what he would need to do before and after they landed. First: Book a hotel room.

As they landed at George Bush Intercontinental Airport, Ressler had managed to book a hotel room last minute, praise the on-board Wi-Fi. He now had an approximately 32 minute long taxi drive to Southmore Boulevard Motel. He spent the whole drive on the phone to the HPD, letting them know he had arrived, where he was staying, and also what he needed.  
He was fed up by the time he got to his hotel, as soon as he'd asked for jurisdiction he'd got a load of crap, why is it everyone had a bad attitude toward the FBI, it's not like they'd gotten anywhere anyway.  
Groaning, he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the man on the other end rattled on. Handing the money to the driver and fishing out his rather light bag he headed into the motel.  
After the man seemed to be finished he decided to skip the middle man.  
"Pass me onto someone more...superior...please"  
The 'please' was gritted out, seeing as the man was rather obnoxious. He didn't have time for stupid power struggles over jurisdiction, it was petty. 

Getting to the front desk he signed in, receiving his key from the helpful lady at the desk, he gave her a polite smile then headed to his room, his phone pressed to his ear as he waited for someone to come to the other end. Unlocking the motel room door he was surprised by the cleanness of it. It was a nice modern looking room, nothing over the top ( like where he was sure Reddington would be ) but not like the general number of motels that were on the sleazy side. He liked it.

Finally getting through to a detective he was pleased to hear the calm man on the other end give him the go ahead to visit the bank tomorrow and access the files.  
Result!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please leave comments! I need some direction or ways to improve


End file.
